Musketeer Episode Tags
by AwesomeSauce2000
Summary: Any and all of my episode tags will be posted here! Please feel free to suggest specific episodes! I love and appreciate reviews, please let me know what you think! Rated T just to be safe.
1. Sleight of Hand

**Hey, y'all! **

**I did change my username. I figured that if I was going to write more than Avengers/Captain America stories, I should go with a more generic name. I don't know, don't ask me how my brain gets from Point A to Point E. It confuses even me sometimes. **

**Ok...this is my first attempt at an episode tag, so if y'all have a chance to leave a review, it would be much appreciated! This is as tag to S1 E2 - Sleight of Hand. I know, I know, its been done many times before. But have they done it my way? Nope! I got a prompt that went something along the lines of, "Character is badly injured and teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, but they're the only one who knows the way." Do I remember what the prompt says? No... I paraphrased, but its fine.**

**Little side note - it has been a bit since I last watched this episode, so if the dialogue is not quite right, I apologize. Let me know the correct lines and I'll fix it, although some lines I did insert that are my own.**

**I don't own any of these characters, and all mistakes are my own.**

**Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!**

**~AwesomeSauce2000**

d'Artagnan groaned, opening his eyes despite the pounding of his skull, and sat up carefully, trying to be careful with his aching ribs.

_I have to find Athos. I have to tell him it was a trap!_

He struggled to his feet, ignoring his body's protests. Before he could warn Athos, he needed to catch Vadim.

The dust hadn't settled yet, and so as d'Artagnan came upon the thief, he decided to even the odds.

"Vadim! Behind you!" d'Artagnan warned.

"You are full of surprises," Vadim mused, spinning around to attempt to see the boy.

"I had a good teacher," d'Artagnan replied. "This way!"

The thief started to panic.

"Vadim, this way!"

d'Artagnan continued dancing around him, trying to ease his muscles before the inevitable sword fight.

"Over here!"

"Enough!" Vadim swung his torch, still trying to see his opponent.

d'Artagnan ducked and drew his sword. He may be injured, but Vadim's swordsmanship was poor, compared to d'Artagnan's training. d'Artagnan felt his sword enter Vadim's body, although the man had disappeared by the time he looked up.

The Gascon spun around at the footsteps behind him. Sighing in relief, he relaxed, hoping it would help his blurry vision.

"Athos."

"So, you are alive."

"I think so," d'Artagnan gave a slight nod towards Athos and Porthos. "You two look like you've bean to hell and back."

Porthos shrugged. "Just a little explosion. Nothin' we can't handle."

Athos put them back on track. "Vadim?"

d'Artagnan raised his bloodied sword. "Wounded. Badly. He can't have gotten far."

Aramis' eyes scanned the boy's body. "You don't look well either, d'Artagnan."

As much as he wanted to admit how much pain he was in, d'Artagnan knew he was the only one with the knowledge to get them out of the tunnels quickly. He muttered a quick, "I'm fine," before leading them forward.

By the time they exited the tunnels, he could hardly see straight, and wanted nothing more than to lean against the wall and sleep. However, Vadim was in sight and he couldn't let him escape a second time.

"Stop there, Vadim! Stop!"

d'Artagnan used what little strength remained to catch up with the thief. Vadim stumbled and fell.

"I should have strangled you at the Chalet, saved myself a lot of trouble."

"Why didn't you?"

"For the fun of it! It was a good trick. It should have worked."

"It nearly did."

Like a light snuffed out, it was over. Vadim was dead, the King and Queen were safe, and he could finally rest.

Athos, Porthos, and Aramis gathered around the thief's body. Athos gave d'Artagnan a nudge.

"You did well, d'Artagnan."

He tried to turn and answer the man before him, but d'Artagnan didn't have the strength to do so.

More musketeers came to collect the body and jewels, while d'Artagnan and the Inseparables headed for the garrison. The group made only half of the journey, before d'Artagnan's body would be ignored no longer.

"You should have _seen_ the explosion, d'Art!" Porthos called back.

When he received no reply, the three musketeers looked back.

"d'Artagnan!"

He was slumped over his horse, unconscious.

Porthos caught the horse's reins, while Athos and Aramis dismounted to pull the boy down.

After a brief examination, Aramis said, "We need to get him somewhere I can treat him properly. Porthos, help me get up on the horse with Athos."

d'Artagnan was soon tucked against Athos, before they continued down the road.

"My apartments are closest," said Athos. "Let us take him there."

It was mere minutes before they were barging into Athos' room and placing d'Artagnan on the bed.

"Athos - warm water and a cloth, please. Porthos - I need my medicine kit from my horse."

Aramis started to carefully peel off d'Artagnan's shirt.

"What have you gotten yourself into, my boy?"

The other musketeers soon came back with the items Aramis had requested.

"What are the extent of his injuries, 'Mis?" Porthos asked.

"He has severly bruised ribs, a rather impressive collection of scratches and bruises, and his wrists are nearly shredded! He'll likely have a headache when he wakes, if this bump on his head is any indication. I'm surprised he was coherent as long as he was. It wouldn't have been easy."

Aramis bound d'Artagnan's ribs to ease his pain, and carefully cleaned each scratch.

d'Artagnan stirred as soon as the medic started on his wrists.

"'Mis?"

Aramis smiled. "It looks like you were involved in more trouble before we got to you, my friend."

d'Artagnan winced as he slowly sat up with Porthos' help. "It was a bit more action than I was anticipating. Being tied to barrels of gunpowder is certainly an activity I will attempt to avoid in the future."

"He did _what_?" Athos growled. "I would kill him myself if he wasn't already dead."

"d'Artagnan made it out alright, Athos," Aramis soothed. "He could very well have come back with more severe injuries. Let us be thankful he is safe with us now."

"Thank you for treating my injuries. I shall leave you for the evening, and-"

"Absolutely _not_!" Aramis interrupted.

"Stay the night, please, d'Artagnan," said Porthos.

The Gascon looked bewildered. "There is no reason for me to-"

"d'Artagnan."

He turned to Athos, meeting his eyes.

"It would allow all of us to sleep better if we knew you were here, and you were safe nearby. I have room to accommodate. Please. Stay."

d'Artagnan stared for a moment longer.

"Alright. One night couldn't hurt."

_Little did he know, this was the first of many nights that he would share with his brothers. But that, my friends, is a tale for another time._


	2. The Good Soldier

**Hey, y'all!**

**I got this request from Mysteryfan17 on AO3, and they asked if I could do a tag to The Good Soldier, and add a scene where d'Artagnan is hurt more when he saves Constance from Marsac. It took awhile, and it's waaaaaay longer than I first planned, but as I started to write this, I kinda wanted to do the entire episode...and thus, this behemoth was born.**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**~AwesomeSauce2000**

"Heat. Flies. Boredom. I do so love parades. I'm thinkin' of faintin' just for somethin' to do."

Athos' lips twice, but he didn't answer Porthos. Instead, he looked past the large musketeer.

"What's wrong with him?" Athos asked, nodding to Aramis.

Porthos glanced at Aramis, before leaning back to Athos.

"Have you forgotten about the massacre of Savoy?"

Athos closed his eyes briefly, hating those words and the pain they brought Aramis.

d'Artagnan stayed silent for a moment, then nudged Athos with his elbow.

"What massacre?" d'Artagnan asked, looking at them, almost afraid for the answer.

He didn't receive an explanation, because at that moment the Duke of Savoy's carriage entered the palace courtyard.

The king and queen moved forward to greet them, along with Treville and the Cardinal, as the duke exited his carriage and helped his lady out.

"Victor! I trust your journey was comfortable?" King Louis said.

"Dreadful!" Victor spat. "Your French roads are full of pot holes!"

The duchess stepped forward. "But it was worth every bump and bruise to see you again," she said, kissing the king's hand.

King Louis softened a bit. "I have missed you, Sister. More than I can say."

The duchess moved back behind her husband, and d'Artagnan turned his attention to the bushes as the duke and the cardinal insulted each other. Just as he was about to express his unease to Athos, a gunshot rang out, flying past the duke.

"Get the king to safety!" Treville shouted.

Porthos ran to join Treville and the guards in order to protect the king, while d'Artagnan raced to catch the shooter, Aramis and Athos not far behind.

d'Artagnan lept over the bushes, neatly rolling to his feet, and dashed through the trees. Porthos joined them as they made their way through the gardens, splitting up to pursue the shooter more quickly. Their trained eyes scanned the area expertly, looking for any sign of movement.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Aramis rounded the corner, and stopped, studying the hanging rope. Cautiously, he stepped around it, searching. He turned, but didn't see any cause for alarm, no criminal to catch. Suddenly, there was a knife at his throat.

"You're an old friend. Don't make me kill you."

"Marsac?"

Aramis hit him in the face, breaking free of his hold, then kicked him in the stomach. He threw the man to the ground, pointing the blade at him.

"First a deserter, now an assassin?"

"You don't understand!" Marsac said. "it was the Duke of Savoy that led the attack and killed our friends five years ago."

Aramis threw the blade away, and drew his gun.

"Put your weapon on th ground," he commanded.

"Before - we were friends, Aramis!"

"Now!"

Marsac took his sword and tossed it to the ground at Aramis' feet.

"Aramis, please, listen to me," Marsac pleaded.

Aramis heard his brothers coming, and pulled Marsac up and behind a pillar just as they came around the corner. As soon as they had passed, Aramis threw him to the ground again, ignoring his thanks.

"That's for leaving me alone in the forest with twenty dead musketeers!"

"Have you never asked yourself what really happened that night? All these years we thought it was the Spanish that butchered our friends. But the duke - "

Aramis ceased his pacing and shoved the former musketeer against the pillar.

"How do you know?" He demanded. "The raiding party were all masked."

"I made it my life's work to find out the truth."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

d'Artagnan had been searching with the others, but had found nothing. Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan gathered back where they had entered again the garden.

"Nothin'," muttered Porthos.

d'Artagnan frowned. "Where's Aramis?"

Porthos looked around the garden. "I don't see 'im."

"Let us hope he hasn't gotten himself into trouble," Athos sighed.

They split up again, now in search of their missing brother.

d'Artagnan heard Aramis' voice, and was about to call out to him, when he realized he didn't recognize the other voice. He crept closer, hoping to hear a part of the conversation. It sounded like they were talking about...the Duke of Savoy? He spun around the corner, gun at the ready, and pointed it at the man leaning against the pillar. However, the scene was not as he expected. Aramis didn't look to be in danger at all.

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

Aramis motioned for the man to stay put and walked over to d'Artagnan.

"Marsac is an old friend," he tried to explain, standing next to his younger brother, hand on his arm.

"An old friend? An old friend who just tried to kill the Duke of Savoy!"

When d'Artagnan still looked unsure, Aramis added, "Hear him out. He was one of the best soldiers in the regiment."

d'Artagnan finally lowered his gun. staring at the medic in disbelief. "He's a musketeer?"

Aramis tilted his head. "H was."

"We were brothers once!" Marsac exclaimed. "For the sake of our friendship, _let me prove what I know_!"

d'ARtagnan glanced between the two, feeling slightly uneasy when Aramis pulled him aside, asking him to keep quiet about Marsac.

"Have you gone mad?" He demanded.

"Possibly, but I owe him my life."

d'Artagnan sighed, once again looking between Aramis and Marsac.

"If this gets me hanged, I'm going to take it _very_ personally."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Standing in Constance's kitchen, d'Artagnan could hardly believe he had let Aramis persuade him into allowing Marsac to sleep at the Bonacieux's.

"So, Monsieur Marsac, I assume you're a soldier?" Constance asked, gathering bolts of fabric up in her arms.

"Not at all," interjected Aramis. "He's a cabinet maker."

"Cabinet maker?" Marsac repeated.

"Highly skilled," added the medic.

"Of course, that's exactly what I am. An artist in oak...walnut...chestnut-"

"Chestnut?" Aramis hissed.

"I don't know," Marsac whispered back. Louder, he continued, "All types of wood!"

"How long will you be staying?" Constance asked.

d'Artagnan jumped in. "Not long, only a few days."

Constance glanced over at him. "Can't answer for himself?"

"He's very shy and he doesn't go out much, if ever," Aramis replied, yanking Marsac back while Constance's back was turned, using the rope tying their hands together.

"Well, if you're willing to vouch for him," Constance said, turning back to face them. "He can stay in d'Artagnan's room."

d'Artagnan wrongly believed the situation could prove any worse, until he found himself telling Marsac to keep his eyes to himself.

"She's married, and a good friend."

"I'm merely admiring from a distance," Marsac said.

d'Artagnan stood in front of him, looking him in the eye. "Make it as far away as possible."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Aramis was to be "settling" Marsac in his room, while d'Artagnan spoke with Constance. When several minutes had passed, and he had yet to return, d'Artagnan excused himself to go make certain everything was alright. He stopped outside the door when he heard Aramis speaking.

"I've thought of you man times, wondered how you were faring."

"Precariously," Marsac replied. "With thieves for company and one eye on the door. I'm weary of it."

d'Artagnan heard Aramis sigh.

"Your name is said with contempt among your old comrades, a coward and a deserter. For that alone, you're under sentence for death."

d'Artagnan could hear the pain in his brother's voice, and wished more than anything he could take it away. His hand immediately reached for his sword when he heard Marsac growl out, "No! No one has the right to judge me! You alone know what really happened!"

He moved away from the door when he heard Aramis prepare to leave. However, there was one last sentence from Marsac that sent a shiver through him.

"Treachery will not go unpunished, Aramis, the lives of our dead friends must be avenged."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

d'Artagnan and Aramis left the Bonacieux household. As soon as the door closed, d'ARtagnan asked, "What happened in Savoy?"

He listened in horror as Aramis told him how most of them were slaughtered in their sleep, and in awe as the medic told how Marsac and himself had fought, and Marsac had saved his life, before fleeing. He listened in pain when Aramis told him how he let Marsac ruin his own life, after saving Aramis'. d'Artagnan vowed to keep his secret, if only to save him the pain.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

d'Artagnan almost regretted his promise, as Treville grilled them on how they allowed the man to get away.

"Did you see him?" Treville asked d'Artagnan.

"I...slipped." d'Artagnan knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it had been a terrible mistake. He thought his life would end there when Treville straightened.

"You slipped?" Treville's voice was deceivingly calm.

"Wet grass."

The captain came around his desk. d'Artagnan could feel Athos staring at him, attempting to read him.

"There's a killer on the loose," Treville started. "The security of the nation hangs by a thread."

d'Artagnan had never felt alone as much as he did in that moment, when the full fury of his captain stopped to stand in front of him, and all three of his brothers took a step back.

"But at least little d'Artagnan didn't get a nasty bruise!"

The Gascon held eye contact for a moment, before looking down. He would never admit how much those words hurt, but he tried to comfort himself in the fact that this was for Aramis.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Athos and Porthos stopped Aramis and d'Artagnan as they attempted to leave the garrison.

"You're hiding something," Athos stated, staring at Aramis.

"No idea what you mean," the medic replied calmly.

Athos looked at d'Artagnan, and all three of the others knew the secret was about to come out as he said, "You too. What is it?"

Aramis avoided eye contact, until d'Artagnan said, "If you don't tell them, I will.

Porthos turned to their youngest as well. "Tell us what?"

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

"You brought a wanted man into my house?" Constance yelled. "A deserter?"

d'Artagnan winced. He knew this had been a terrible choice.

"Deserter and assassin," Athos helpfully added.

"I'm guessin' they didn't mention that part?" Porthos asked, smirking.

Marsac then spoke up. "Failed assassin, technically."

Constance turned on him. "Oh, you can keep quiet. I don't want to know!"

Athos glowered at Aramis, while Constance spun on d'Artagnan. The Gascon prepared himself for the hateful words that were sure to come out of her mouth.

"I trusted you!"

With those three simple words, his soul was crushed.

"d'Artagnan's not to blame, he behaved with honor," said Aramis, now attempting to defend him.

"Honorable people don't lie to their friends!"

Constance's words stung more than Treville's did. It seemed today was the day he let everyone down. d'Artagnan hardly heard Marsac's apology, as he was seeking to control his emotions. He couldn't help but bear her next words, however.

"You can pack your bags."

She was allowing the criminal to stay, but she was throwing him out?

"That hardly seems fair!"

"She'll forgive you just give her time," Aramis soothed as Constance stormed out.

d'Artagnan joked with Porhtos to hid how battered he felt on the inside. After all, he _did_ lie to her. He deserved the harsh words.

Athos glared at d'ARtagnan and Aramis. "Have you both completely lost your mind?"

"Perhaps Athos doesn't care about twenty dead musketeers," Marsac taunted.

"Insulting the man who has your life in his hands, I see you are a fool as well as a coward."

Marsac jumped out of his chair, and Athos rose to meet him, before Aramis stood between them.

"Just hear him out," Aramis begged. "If you're not satisfied, I'll do whatever you suggest."

All five of them watched each other until Marsac broke the silence.

"There's someone you need to talk to first."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Marsac had found a man bragging in a bar about killing musketeers. He started to beat the man hanging in front of them.

"Easy," d'Artagnan warned. "He can't talk if he's out cold."

The man told them how he and other soldiers were employed by the Duke of Savoy, and paid to slaughter the musketeers, but they were tipped off about where the musketeers were camped.

"Who?" Aramis demanded. "Who betrayed the musketeers?"

"It was a Captain Treville."

"Makes sense, every man has his price," accused Marsac.

"You take that back!" Porthos shouted, starting towards him.

Athos and d'Artagnan intercepted him.

"Gentlemen," said Athos, trying to alleviate the tension.

The Inseparables and d'Artagnan gathered off to the side discussing how to get the truth, when they heard someone choking. The four of them turned to see Marsac suffocating the witness. By the time Athos pulled him off, it was too late.

"He's dead," d'Artagnan announced, after attempting to find a pulse.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

"There is no proof," Athos pointed out as the five of them walked down the street.

"Athos is right," agreed Aramis.

"Don't you want revenge?" Marsac spat.

The medic stopped to look at him. "I want justice."

"This is the captain we're talkin' 'bout 'ere!"

"Which is why we owe it to him to clear his name."

d'Artagnan was still skeptical. "So we're doing him a favor? Let's hope he sees it that way."

"This isn't any of your business. You're not even a musketeer!" Marsac stated.

d'Artagnan smirked, though his heart twinged. "Apparently, neither are you."

Marsac attempted to attack d'Artagnan, but Porthos pushed Marsac back, while Athos pulled d'Artagnan towards him.

"Don't go there," Porthos growled. "Not if you enjoy breathing."

d'Artagnan felt a little better after that. At least they had moved to defend him instead of nodding in agreement.

Aramis steered them back to their original topic.

"I have to know the truth."

"I don't believe Treville is guilty and I never will," Athos said. "But we won't stand in your way. Do what you have to do. One condition - Marsac stays under house arrest."

As Porthos led Marsac away, Aramis said, "I wounded the leader, a cut across the back. If it is the Duke of Savoy, he'll still carry the scar."

Athos came to stand in front of him. "Aramis, before you go down this road, you must ask yourself one question. If it is him, what then?"

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d'Artagnan packed his bags quickly. The sooner he left, the sooner he could pretend that this didn't happen, and move on with his life.

"What are you doing?"

d'Artagnan stiffened, but continued to fold his clothes. "You told me to pack my bags."

"I killed a man for you and you still don't trust me?" Constance asked.

"I was trying to protect you."

"I don't want protection, I want to be teated as an equal."

He didn't look up, replying, "I made a promise to Aramis."

"So you chose him over me."

"It's not that simple. It's a question of loyalty!"

The look on her face when he turned stopped him. "I'm sorry, you were right. You were right. I won't make the same mistake next time."

"Next time?"

"Well, I was hoping you might change your mind?"

Constance sighed. "Well we do need the money.

"And I swear I'll never lie to you again."

"I hope not. Because next time you'll be out on your ear...and...I'd miss you."

d'Artagnan nodded, smilling a little bit. At least this mess had been fixed.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Aramis threw his hat onto the table. "The captain keeps a record of every musketeer campaign since the regiment was founded, all except that one night. There's no documents for the mission in Savoy, no maps, no letters, nothing at all. Coincidence?"

d'Artagnan's heart dropped. "Perhaps you just didn't find them."

"His filing is meticulous, there's nothing there. The documents have either been removed or destroyed."

"I'm still confident there's a perfectly good explanation," d'Artagnan said.

"I admit it is troubling, but I agree with d'Artagnan," stated Athos.

"So you're content to do nothing? How much evidence do you need that something is badly wrong? That something-"

"I will never believe that the captain is a traitor," Athos interrupted.

Aramis laughed sadly. "You think I want to?"

Marsac stood from his chair. "Let me help you. I give you my word as a gentleman that I won't try to leave. Aramis, tell them, you know me!"

d'Artagnan shook his head, closing his eyes.

"I used to," Aramis replied quietly.

"Every word I have told you has turned out to be the truth. Why would I deceive you now?"

Aramis looked to Athos. d'Artagnan watched their silent conversation before Athos drew his knife and cut Marsac's restraints.

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d'Artagnan stood with his brothers outside Treville's office, waiting for hime to arrive back from the palace.

"What's this?" Treville asked, stopping in front of them.

"We have a question to ask you," Athos answered.

"Why aren't you with the duke?"

Treville's question went unanswered as Aramis said, "Five years ago you ordered a group of musketeers to Savoy on a training exercise."

d'Artagnan lowered his head, not wanting to hear how this would end, but unwilling to leave his brothers.

"They were all killed," Aramis continued. "All except Marsac and myself."

"I remember."

Porthos picked up where Aramis left off. "At the time, the attack was blamed on a Spanish raiding party."

Treville watched him, confused. "What do you mean, at the time?"

d'Artagnan took a deep breath before replying, "We have information that it was the Duke of Savoy who was responsible."

Aramis stepped closer to Treville. "You don't seem surprised."

"The only thing that surprises me is your dereliction of duty! Get back to your posts before I lose my temper!"

"Did you know it was the duke?" Aramis demanded.

"I'm not accountable to you."

The four brothers followed their captain into his office.

"You are to the men who died!"

"Be careful, Aramis," Treville warned. "You're in dangerous territory."

"Not as dangerous as Savoy was for your men," Porthos growled, backing Aramis up.

"I'm going to put this down to a fit of temporary insanity. Leave now and we will say no more about it."

Aramis wasn't backing down.

"How did our orders get into the duke's hands? Who told him where we were camping? Why did he think we were coming to attack him?"

"Get out!" Treville bellowed.

_"Who killed those musketeers and why?"_

d'Artagnan, Athos, and Porthos watched as Aramis stared Treville down.

Silence reigned for several long moments.

"Who have you been talking to?"

"It doesn't matter," Athos said. "What matters is the truth."

"Leave. Now. And I'll spare you a court martial. I'm not giving you an answer you don't deserve."

Aramis started towards him, but Athos caught his arm.

"One last time. Will you answer our questions?"

Treville glared at them. "No. I will not."

The men left his office quietly.

"Marsac is right! How much more proof do we need?" Aramis demanded.

"He didn't admit to anything," d'Artagnan gently reminded him.

"He didn't need to! It was written on his face!"

"The captain is the finest man I've ever met!" Porthos defended. "When it comes down to it, I'd rather be on 'is side than Marsac's!"

"You may be content to do nothing. I'm not," Aramis fumed.

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d'Artagnan had never been more furious in his life than when he opened the door to see Marsac attacking Constance. He ripped him away from her and gave him a swift punch to the face.

"Touch her again and I'll kill you," d'Artagnan threatened.

Marsac laughed, standing up. "Kill me? You? A puny boy who's trying to play hero?"

"How dare you speak to him like that! d'Artagnan is a better man than you could ever hope to be!" Constance proclaimed.

"Is he? He's not even a musketeer. God only knows why those other three even put up with you. Do you need them to fight your battles for you, d'Art?"

"Don't call me that," d'Artagnan hissed. He would have like nothing better than to attack the man, but not only was he unwilling to leave Constance undefended, Marsac was Aramis' friend, and he would do no more damage than necessary.

"You cause trouble wherever you go and need others to save you. Why, just yesterday Porthos stopped me from putting you in your place. Where are your protectors now, boy?"

Marsac's words took him back to several incidents within the last few days.

_"There's a killer on the loose...but at least little d'Artagnan didn't get a nasty_ _bruise!"_

_"I trusted you! Honorable people don't lie to their friends!"_

He broke out of his memory when Constance screamed. He blinked and Marsac was upon him. d'Artagnan fought back, until he was thrown to the ground, and the former musketeers delivered several kicks to his ribs.

_I have to protect Constance...Marsac can't touch her again..._

With that thought in his mind, d'Artagnan drug himself up enough to launch his body at Marsac's legs to bring him down. The two men fought across the kitchen floor, both trying to get the upper hand. As soon as they were close to the table, d'Artagnan grabbed Marsac's collar and smacked his head against the leg, rendering him unconscious. d'Artagnan turned to Constance once he had tied Marsac up.

"Are you alright?"

Constance nodded uncertainly.

"He didn't hurt you?"

"No, d'Artagnan, I am alright. I'm more worried about you."

"Minor bruises, nothing to worry about."

Now certain Constance wasn't injured, d'Artagnan drug Marsac out of the kitchen, securing him in the bedroom."

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

d'Artagnan sat at the table in the courtyard, eating, when Athos and Porthos returned. He silently cursed his bad luck. He had hoped to avoid them, lest they learn of his injuries.

"Shouldn't you be with the duke?"

"Our services are no longer required."

"That's for sure," Porthos muttered. "We need to speak to the captain."

Athos hardly glanced at him. "I need a drink."

When d'Artganan didn't make his usual retort about him always needing a drink, Athos looked up to check on him.

"You alright, d'Art?" Porthos asked, coming to the same conclusion.

d'Artagnan winced at the name, then assured them he was fine.

Before either of the musketeers could protest, the duchess raced into the courtyard on her horse, and they were once again on a mission to save France. They rode hard to make it to the prison ahead of the duke and the cardinal. d'Artagnan struggled to keep his face clear of any pain throughout the ride, thankful that Athos and Porthos were more concerned about their current mission.

They rushed through the prison, only just getting the prisoner out and their own man in, before the duke burst in. Once the duke had come to the conclusion this wasn't his man, the musketeers sighed in relief.

The cardinal nodded to d'Artagnan in a rare show of gratitude, to which d'Artagnan returned. The unexpected guests left the prison, and Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan congratulated themselves on another job well done.

d'Artagnan's strange behavior was forgotten for now.

**MUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERSMUSKETEERS**

Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan rested in their room at the garrison, finally relaxing after the stress of the last few days. Aramis had shot Marsac to protect the captain, and the two of them went to bury the former musketeer. Treville had asked them to allow him and Aramis to do this themselves, and he would send the medic to them when they were done.

d'Artagnan wanted to return to his room at the Bonacieux's, but wished to make sure Aramis was alright before he left.

All three of them were startled when the door shot open, and Aramis called for d'Artagnan urgently.

"'Mis! What happened? What's wrong?"

"d'Artagnan, you foolish, foolish boy!"

Aramis crossed the room to d'Artagnan's side quickly.

"Aramis, what-"

d'Artagnan couldn't finish his sentence, because Aramis pushed him down onto his bed, frantically pulling at his jacket. Despite the Gascon's protests, it wasn't until Porthos gained a hold of the medic, that Aramis gave them an answer.

"'Mis, I don't know what's wrong, but you 'ave to talk to us. You're scaring poor d'Art."

"Scaring d'Artagnan? Scaring _d'Artagnan_?"

"Aramis!"

At Athos command, Aramis glared at d'Artagnan.

"As Marsac died, he said to me, 'You'll save your traitorous captain, but not your supposed brother?'"

d'Artagnan became extremely interested as three sets of eyes settled on him.

"d'Artagnan."

Athos' tone made him look up.

"Nothing happened, I'm fine!"

Aramis broke free of Porthos' hold and started to tug at d'Artagnan's clothes again.

"Aramis!"

"d'Artagnan, take your shirt off."

"But Athos-"

"Pup, we 'ave other ways."

d'Artagnan sighed, reluctantly helped Aramis in his endeavor to pull off his jacket and shirt. As soon as they could see the damage, the room became deathly silent.

"Listen-"

Athos didn't listen. "Unless the next words coming out of your mouth are going to be the truth of how you acquired these injuries, don't finish that sentence."

"Did Marsasc do this to you?" Aramis demanded.

"Aramis, none of this was your fault."

"He should be thankful he's already dead!"

d'Artagnan blinked at the tone of his brother's voice.

"Should 'ave 'it 'im when I 'ad the chance."

"It's not that bad!"

"What happened?"

"Athos-"

_"What. Happened."_

"Athos, please, don't. It doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"When I went back to the Bonacieux's, he was attacking her, I couldn't allow him to do that to her. We fought, I caught him. There's nothing to tell."

Aramis wouldn't allow him to get away with the simplicity of his statement. "_Specifically,_ d'Artagnan. What happened, _exactly_ as it happened. Don't you dare try to leave anything out."

"What did he say to you?"

"An' 'ow 'ard did 'e 'it you, pup? Look at these bruises!"

d'Artagnan looked down at his boots again. "Is it that important?"

"Yes," all three of his brother's voices rang.

The Gascon sighed, but closed his eyes, not wanting to see their reaction when they realized that Marsac was right. He remembered how terrified he had been on Constance's behalf, and how his anger that Marsac _dared_ touch her rose above it all.

"I-I opened the kitchen door, and immediately, every part of me, every instinct _screamed _at me to get Constance out of here, to get that-that _monster_ away from her. I pulled him away and hit him in the face for good measure. He had been drinking, I thought maybe it would make him come to his senses. I was furious that he would ever think to touch her, let alone attack her, and I admit, I did threaten to kill him if he ever thought about doing it again."

d'Artagnan glanced at them, his usually mischievous brown eyes show instead with confusion.

"And he laughed at me. I knew then this wasn't merely too much wine, but instead his deep rooted rage. He looked at me, and I could see how much he _hated_ me. And I don't understand why. He-he taunted me, asking how I could ever kill him, and he said that...he said that I was trying to play hero."

"Oh, d'Artagnan," Aramis breathed.

Their youngest smiled back at them. "It's alright. Constance told him what she thought about that."

"What did he say to that?" Athos asked.

"Marsac was not persuaded. He wanted to know why you kept me around, and asked if I always needed other people to stand up for me, to fight my battles. He told me I was trouble and asked, 'Where are your protecters now, boy?' It reminded me of the other day, and I lost focus. I wasn't prepared when he attacked, it was my fault."

"No, d'Art," Aramis said. "Not your fault."

"What were you thinking about?" Athos asked. "When he said those words to you, you said you were reminded. What did it remind you of?"

Refusing to look him in the eye, d'Artagnan stared down at the floor as he replied, "It made me think of all the trouble I've caused recently, and the captain's words when we failed to bring him Marsac, and when Constance was angry with me."

"I should have stood up for you in the captain's office, and for that I am sorry. It was my fault you had to lie to him," Aramis said, turning away from them.

d'Artagnan stood and forced Aramis to look at him.

"_No._ It is not your fault, it is my own stupidity. I'm the one who told him I slipped. His words stung, but they aren't your fault. I _have_ been trouble of late, so I deserved it, as well as Constance's anger. Please don't blame yourself."

When d'Artagnan started to sway on his feet, Aramis agreed, "Alright, not my fault, please sit down."

Once the Gascon sat on the bed again, they asked for the rest of the story.

d'Artagnan pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut, and took a deep breath before replying, "I told you. I was distracted and he attacked. What more is there to tell?"

Porthos snorted. "'Ow 'bout the part 'at tells us wha' 'appened in the fight?"

"He shoved me to the ground and kicked me. Constance was in danger, I couldn't let anything happen to her, so I dove into his legs and we fought until I knocked him out using the table leg."

"How many times did he kick you?" Aramis asked, prodding gently at the bruises on his torso. Athos and Porthos sat on either side of d'Artagnan when he hissed in pain.

"I don't know," d'Artagnan mumbled, leaning against his mentor.

"Well then, I suppose we need to patch you up. Can you sit up, pup?"

d'Artagnan hummed, finally allowing his exhaustion to catch up with him, and curled around Athos.

"d'Artagnan? Are you alright?" Athos asked, worried.

"He's had a rough day, 'Thos. Let him rest, I'll work around you."

Soon, d'Artagnan was settled into bed, and Athos brushed his hand through the boys hair.

"One day, I hope you'll come to us when you're hurt, or worried, or upset."


End file.
